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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467102">Sons of Fett</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaindominoes/pseuds/captaindominoes'>captaindominoes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Western, Set in the late 1800s</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:40:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaindominoes/pseuds/captaindominoes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the untimely disappearance of Jango Fett, the West's most infamous outlaw, triplets Rex, Cody, and Wolffe have been searching for their father's rumored fortune with little luck. As they grow closer to uncovering Jango’s secrets, the brothers discover they are not the only ones interested in the Fett inheritance. </p><p>A "Clone Wars" Western Alternate Universe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-2224 | Cody &amp; CT-7567 | Rex &amp; CC-3636 | Wolffe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sons of Fett</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to my Clone Wars Western AU! This has been ruminating in my head for several months, and I'm thrilled to finally share it. Happy reading :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Never had there been a finer trio of brothers, and perhaps there never would be again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Born to a clan of mercenaries and a poor farmer’s daughter, the brothers were raised wanting for little, but moving often and discovering home wherever their tents were pitched. That was how life had to be when one’s father was the most wanted outlaw in the West. The brothers were born on their feet, constantly moving just out of the range of trouble’s greedy grip. She was never far behind the Fett clan in those days. It was inevitable that one day she would catch up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The battle between Jango Fett’s pride and the disorder he sowed wherever he went was one the trio would continue to fight long after their father was gone. As long as they bore the Fett name, they bore his legacy. Wolffe, the protector; Cody, the pragmatist; and Rex, the strategist, brothers in more than blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They balanced each other out like the plates of a scale, each one unequal in such a way that it perfectly stabilized the others. Their vow to maintain the Fett clan outlasted even Jango himself, who disappeared not long after the brothers’ 20th birthday. Worse than if Jango had left them nothing, the entirety of their father’s authority was abandoned to them. The name ‘Fett’ was now their responsibility. The honor and misfortune was shared between them, as the rightful heirs to the Fett clan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like their father before them, the brothers had one primary goal on this Earth: survive. As young men, the trio had become well versed in Jango’s line of work. He wasn’t dirty, but neither was he particularly clean. It wasn’t unusual for the Fetts to take under-the-table jobs, often involving illegal trade and black market operations. Shady undertakings hardly tickled the conscience of any of the Fett men. If they did, they knew where the door was. Despite Jango’s proclivities towards crime, there were a few trades he never dabbled in. Drugs. Slaves. Prostitution. High-grade arms. Jango’s hands may have been dirty, but it could always be washed off at the end of the day. Those were the rules. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brothers had recently come across a venture that could change the fate of the Fett clan. As jobs went, this one was as simple as they could hope for. Cody didn’t mind waiting it out while Rex and Wolffe headed the negotiations. It was usually Cody that sought out various job opportunities through the network of contacts they had established over the years, most of whom were acquainted with their father. Lately, work had begun to dry up, even the more lucrative deals usually snapped up by one of the Fett clan members to fund their operations. This particular deal was the first step in a scheme that would reestablish the infamous Fett name, which had fallen to the shadows when its figurehead disappeared. It was up to the brothers to revive it, if there was any hope left that the Fett clan could restore even a fraction of their former glory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tales of rebuilding Jango Fett’s underground empire were more fantastical than a reality for Cody. He had agreed to this job out of Rex’s insistence, but he wasn’t particularly invested in the target. Rex’s contact had supposedly dug up information relevant to Jango Fett. Cody wasn’t keeping his hopes up. Their father had disappeared for a reason, and if he wanted to stay gone, he would. This was most likely a waste of their time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The modest farmhouse where Rex and Wolffe were conducting their negotiations had stayed mostly quiet since they had entered. Even though Cody was growing bored standing out by the horses tied up not fifty feet away, he wouldn’t abandon his post. It had been an hour already, maybe two. The arbitration wasn’t going well, then. The old farmer that supposedly held the target Rex and Wolffe were after was a stubborn bastard by reputation, and he had at least a couple sons to back that up from what Cody could tell. One had been eyeing him from the sagging front porch since the brothers’ arrival. Cody wasn’t bothered. Wolffe was a hell of a negotiator, and even if he wasn’t, Cody was a hell of a shot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Cody pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, he began to hear muffled yelling coming from within the house. The farmer’s son disappeared behind the house when his old man called out something Cody couldn’t make out. He didn’t come back out again. A sudden calm fell over the house a minute after the farmer’s son disappeared, and Cody had to strain his ears to pick up any hint of what was going on. The situation wasn’t looking good from where he was standing. Trouble was brewing, and the pot was just about to boil over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front door burst open the moment Cody’s fingers brushed the Colt revolver at his hip. Wolffe and Rex were hightailing it across the front yard like a couple clods in red being chased by a bull. Bullets began to rain down around their feet, kicking up dust and dirt in clouds that blinded them. They were lucky the farmer’s sons couldn’t handle a rifle like they could a hoe, or Wolffe and Rex would’ve been dead in the dirt already. They barely made it to cover before the bullets followed them, too close for comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell happened in there?” Cody yelled, ducking when a bullet whizzed just past his left ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No time!” Wolffe bellowed. He slid behind a water trough with a second to spare. Wood chips rained down onto his head as bullets punched holes into the trough above his head. “We need to get the hell out of here!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely two minutes into the battle, the brothers were pinned down a dozen yards from their horses. Cody was the most exposed, but he laid down enough cover fire for Wolffe and Rex to make their way towards their only method of escape. They needed a plan before the situation took a turn for the worse, and predictably, it did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of metal ripping through flesh was unmistakable. To his credit, Cody fired off one last shot before he slumped to the ground with a pained grunt, gripping his shoulder tightly. His shirt was already stained red with blood. The spot was spreading faster than Wolffe and Rex could react. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rattle in Cody’s chest when he took a shallow, gasping breath sent Rex into action. He was closest to the horses, but Wolffe was closer to Cody. They would have to work together on this operation. A quick glance was all Rex needed to communicate with his brother: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll grab the horses. You get him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe ducked under a spray of bullets that nearly took off his hat with the force of their travel. In the half-second between that round and the next, he moved, kicking up dust in his wake that would hopefully obscure his movements. Behind him, Rex was still shooting periodically as he made his strategic move back to where the horses anxiously strained against their ropes. Wolffe didn’t have time to worry about what Rex was doing. Cody was his priority. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey.” Wolffe shushed Cody as he knelt down beside him. The size of the blood stain on his shirt was worrisome enough without factoring in how pale and shaky Cody already was, but Wolffe stayed optimistic for his brother’s sake. “You’ll be just fine. Can you stand? Walk?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-- hell, Wolffe.” Cody cursed and gripped his shoulder harder as fresh blood oozed between his fingers. “I don’t know. Don’t think I can ride like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t need to. I got you,” Wolffe reassured him. “Here. Take your hand off.” He quickly undid his button-down and stripped it off, leaving himself in just his undershirt. He balled up the shirt and pressed it against Cody’s wound. “Just like that. Hold it there. Tight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cody’s shaky fingers pressed the shirt against the wound, but he was still losing blood fast. Too fast. They were out of time. The shooting had all but stopped, most likely on account of the farmer’s sons either running out of bullets or giving up. Wolffe didn’t want to stick around to find out which one it was. One could always get more bullets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex had taken his chance to bolt to the horses and untie them. Wolffe’s own, a beautiful chestnut stallion called Whiskey, trotted over to him when he whistled for her. She’d been in enough firefights that the bullets hadn’t fazed her. Cody’s horse didn’t fare so well. She was newer, not quite used to the operations they ran, and she strained against her lead when Rex grabbed hold of it. It was the least of their concerns. With a firm slap to the rump, Rex sent her on her way, recognizing as Wolffe had that Cody couldn’t ride on his own. They’d recoup the losses somehow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help me get him up on this damn horse.” Wolffe bent down and slipped his arm around Cody’s waist, hauling him to an unsteady standing position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex was there in a moment, supporting Cody’s other side. It took both of them to get Cody into position on Whiskey’s back. In Cody’s condition, Wolffe would have to support him just to keep him on the horse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take Blondie back to camp,” Rex called to Wolffe as he grabbed the front of his own horse’s saddle and used his momentum to pull himself up. “She’ll be faster than Whiskey carrying yours and Cody’s weight combined. I’ll warn ‘em and make sure they’re ready.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it.” Wolffe hiked his leg over Whiskey’s back and settled forward, keeping Cody’s weight steady as he dug his heels into her side. “I’ll see you there, brother.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whiskey was plenty fast, but it was only a few minutes before Rex was just a dust trail on the horizon. With a click of his tongue and a snap of the reins, Wolffe encouraged Whiskey faster. His heart was beating in time with the steady thrum of her hoofs beating against the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, old girl, you got it in you,” Wolffe murmured to Whiskey. “Let’s get him there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rhythmic rocking of her body as her long legs gobbled up the ground beneath them did little to comfort Cody. A soft moan left his cracked lips, and his body writhed in agony when Whiskey hit a particularly bumpy patch of the trail. Wolffe gathered both reins in one hand and used the other to lightly pat Cody’s cheek to keep him awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eyes open, brother, it’s not long now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolffe,” Cody exhaled. His bloody fingers pressed the remnants of Wolffe’s shirt against his wound with renewed vigor, but his strength was failing him. “‘S at least ten more miles back to camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re not bleeding out ‘til we get there,” Wolffe growled in return. He batted Cody’s hand away and took over for him. The reins were wrapped around his forearm to give him limited steering ability as he firmly pressed the cloth against the steadily-trickling wound. “Looks like the bullet went all the way through, so they’re not even gonna have to dig around for it. All they gotta do is stitch you back up and you’ll be kicking around in a few days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurts like a--” Cody winced and gasped aloud when a wave of pain rippled through his shoulder and all the way down into his chest. “Hurts like a son of a bitch, Wolffe!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Wolffe hunched over Cody’s back and held him as securely as he could. “Keep talking to me. Stay awake.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something deep in Wolffe’s chest lurched at the wet, strangled sound that forced its way out of Cody’s chest. After a few moments of silence, Cody started to breathe easier, and Wolffe hoped that last bit of adrenaline would be enough to carry them back to camp. He subtly dug his heels into Whiskey’s side to urge her on yet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell happened in there anyway?” Cody’s eyes were closed, but he was still talking. That was good enough for Wolffe. “How’d you go from negotiating to shooting?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were aggressive negotiations.” Wolffe scoffed and shook his head. “Guess Baker’s had a few run-ins with the old man. Not too fond of him. He had no idea we were blood Fetts ‘til Rex ran his mouth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh that sounded more like a wheeze burst out of Cody. “He hates our father that much?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He refused to sell or trade the journal. Said there’s no way he’s letting it back into the hands of one of us,” Wolffe said. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So I took it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then he called in the calvary,” Cody finished. “You conveniently forgot Baker’s got three sons, a couple farmhands, and enough firepower to take down a small army. Great. Got my ass shot for a damn journal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not just any damn journal,” Wolffe reminded him. He was forced to duck down when Whiskey kicked up a plume of dust, but it passed quickly enough and Wolffe urged her on. “Our father’s journal. And hopefully the key to that fortune he’s been hiding all these years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it even exists.” Cody’s face tightened for a moment. “You think the bleeding’s stopped?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting the makeshift bandage, Wolffe took a peek to satisfy his own worries and Cody’s. There was still a ring of bright red soaking it, and plenty oozing out. “Don’t you worry about that, brother. It’s looking better already.” The lie tasted sour on his tongue, but Wolffe knew it was more important to keep Cody calm than it was to give him all the details.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cody nodded in relief, but he didn’t have the strength left to do much else. The road was starting to look more familiar now. At the speed Whiskey was maintaining, the trees passed by them in a barely-comprehensible blur, but Wolffe knew this area of land better than he knew his own Mama’s face. There was a distinct fork in the road just a few hundred feet ahead, with one branch leading to town and another into a heavily wooded area. Wolffe took Whiskey down the path less taken, into a dark thicket of trees with a man-beaten path barely wide enough for two horses. No small-town doc would be able to help Cody. Only one man could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guards saw Whiskey coming before the brothers saw them. Wolffe spared them a brief nod before barrelling at full speed into their camp. Hawk was already there to intercept, and he grabbed hold of Whiskey’s reins to tie her in as she trotted to her post. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help me with him!” Wolffe called out, sliding off Whiskey’s back. He hardly needed to shout. Men were already streaming out of the tents to surround Whiskey and help out where they could. Rex, accompanied by their resident medic’s assistant, hustled over with a stretcher to lay Cody on. It was a quick few yards to the tent of the medic and the only one who had a prayer’s chance at saving Cody. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get him in here, quickly now!” Kix pulled his arms out out of a basin of warm, soapy water and held them up and out of the way as Cody was laid out on a table in the middle of the tent. He let out a soft groan when he was roughly transferred, but otherwise gave no indication that he was even aware of what was happening. He was too far gone. Kix waved down his assistant, Jesse, and motioned for him to scrub up before he started ripping off Cody’s shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everybody that’s not helping me, out now. I need some breathing room.” Kix fielded Rex and Wolffe’s complaints before they even opened their mouths. “And you as well. Someone will come get you when I’m good and ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Rex and Wolffe found themselves standing outside Kix’s tent, hats in their hands and hearts in their throats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the men standing around had more questions than the brothers had answers. Wolffe pushed past them with a grunt, heading for the wash basin nearby. Rex was hot on his heels. The others took their cue and went back to their business, though plenty of curious eyes were still trained on the brothers as they washed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex was worse for wear, but Wolffe looked like he had gone through a butcher’s massacre as the only lone survivor. He stripped his undershirt immediately and began to wash his shaking hands, sticky with Cody’s blood. Rex silently offered Wolffe a fresh shirt, which he gladly took as soon as the majority of the blood had been washed away. The smell of copper was so strong in the air that Rex’s nostrils were burning with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolffe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell, Rex,” Wolffe muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s our brother in there. That’s our brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Hey.” Rex took Wolffe by the shoulders to steady him, looking into both his brown eye and the cloudy gray one. “He’ll be alright. Cody’s strong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not strong enough. He caught a fuckin’ bullet in the shoulder. Would’ve been the neck if his reflexes weren’t good.” Wolffe yanked himself away and began to pace, his one good eye still trained on Kix’s tent. “What’s the fuckin’ use in finding all that gold the old man supposedly has stashed away if we get killed doing it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you sound like Cody.” Rex watched Wolffe pace back and forth, his boots wearing down a patch of grass. “Worrying’s not going to help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe let out a soft snarl and turned, reluctantly tearing himself away from Kix’s tent to make his way back to his own. Knowing Wolffe was in no state to wait by himself, Rex silently followed. He ducked under the tent flaps a second after Wolffe did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Wolffe’s back was to him, Rex could sense his brother’s hesitation and unease. Rex hadn’t seen Wolffe grab his saddle bag off Whiskey during the scramble to get Cody the help he needed, but it was sitting on Wolffe’s cot next to his hat. An inch of leather peeked out of the side pocket of the bag. Wolffe didn’t try to stop Rex as he lifted the flap to get a better look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope that old piece of junk was worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The journal was so old and beat-up that Rex was afraid the binding would come undone in his hands, but miraculously, it stayed in one piece as he carefully skimmed the pages. Writing filled every line and margin in the unmistakable scrawl Rex had come to associate with his father. He had no hope of interpreting it as it was, but with time, he hoped to uncover the clues that would lead them to the last bit of Jango Fett that still existed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought we lost this in the shootout. I’m glad it wasn’t all for nothing.” Rex’s fingers danced over the pages, flitting from line to line as if he expected a miracle to jump out at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was mostly nonsense, at least from what Rex could tell. Wolffe grudgingly came to stand at his shoulder as Rex gingerly flipped each fragile page. The journal had been a ledger as much as a personal account, so many pages were filled with lines of numbers and useless names. Jango Fett had kept meticulous track of his records, a habit he had passed onto his sons. Still, the key to unlocking those records existed only in Jango’s mind, leaving Rex and Wolffe with little to work with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all practically useless.” Wolffe’s brows furrowed as they passed page after page of meaningless scrawl. “Just one more way the old man screwed us even after he was gone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, Wolffe.” Rex paused, his fingers resting over a strange writing he didn’t recognize on the second to last page. “This doesn’t look useless to me. It looks like… I’m not sure. A location? Instructions?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe squinted at the page and scoffed. “And how the hell would you know that? That’s not in any language we know. Looks like some kind of code.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Rex shut the journal and secured the binding once more before tucking it into his belt. “If it’s in code, that means he didn’t want anyone to be able to read it. So it must’ve been important. It’s worth taking it to get translated.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a big risk,” Wolffe cut in immediately, as Rex had known he would. “We’d have to find someone we trust. And after what happened today, our asses will be over the fire until it all cools down. We need to lay low. That’s more important than the journal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t disagree,” Rex said. “But there’s a reason we all agreed to set down this path, to even try to get this journal and make sense of it. All of this has been a risk. Following my contact’s lead to go after the journal was a risk. Stealing it was a hell of a risk too, Wolffe, and look where it got Cody. We’re into it now. If even a fraction of the rumors are true--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand all that.” Wolffe let out a frustrated sigh and sat down heavily on his cot. Rex joined him, their shoulders barely brushing as they both contemplated the mess that had gotten them there. “We have no idea if the old man’s got a cent to his name. He could’ve taken it all when he left. Maybe he’s still alive, living out a happy retirement and drinking himself into the ground. All we know is what he told us, and he’s always been a man for embellishing stories. The inheritance he promised could be horse shit. We’ve always had half a mind that it was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really believe that about him?” Wolffe was silent, and Rex nodded in acceptance. “We don’t know why he left everything behind. We don’t know why he hasn’t contacted us, if he even still is alive, or why he wouldn’t tell us more about this supposed inheritance if he really did want us to have it. All we have is his word, and this journal. We’ve been scrounging and scraping by on pennies earned from jobs we only got because we carry Jango Fett’s name. We can’t go on like this much longer. That inheritance isn’t just our right. It’s the only thing we have left of him, the only hope we have of keeping his legacy alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at you.” Wolffe glanced sideways at Rex and cracked a tired grin. It was returned laced with sarcasm and irony. “Never thought I’d hear you talk about our father’s legacy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex propped his elbows up on his knees and held his head between his hands. The fatigue of the day was catching up to him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. This moment between him and Wolffe, rare since squabbles about the fate of their clan had built up a wall between them, was a great reprieve. They would rest when news of Cody’s injury reached them. Surely Kix would be able to stabilize him quickly, though infection would still be Cody’s enemy for several weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not really him I’m worried about, y’know.” Rex’s knee knocked Wolffe’s affectionately. “It’s us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nudged him right back, so hard Rex almost fell over, and they laughed together. “Same for me. And don’t you forget it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rustling just outside the tent caught Rex and Wolffe’s attention immediately. The camp’s daily affairs were typically monitored by a close cousin of the brothers, who was just a few years their junior. Whether it was good or bad news, the blow would be lessened by a familiar face, and Fives had been chosen to deliver the news for that exact reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fives ducked inside, his hat held loosely in his hands as he addressed them. “Kix says Cody’s resting, but he’s gonna live. Should heal up just fine. Kix is gonna stay up with him through the night just in case.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relief permeated the tent. Wolffe clapped Rex on the shoulder and roughly shook him while they shared an exhilarated laugh. They really pulled that off. Whether by luck or skill, it didn’t matter; Cody was alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Fives,” Rex said, nodding at him. “Tell Kix we appreciate his help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll be happy to hear it. He was grumbling the whole time about a couple of turkeys he knows who can’t keep bullets out of ‘em.” Fives’ look was directed at Wolffe, who merely smirked. The scar over his eye wrinkled with the motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that wasn’t a bullet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell that to Kix.” Fives nodded at them and placed his hat back over his curls. “You can see Cody in the morning. Should probably get some rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got it handled here.” Rex waited until Fives had left the tent, and then turned back to Wolffe. “I need to get in contact with my associate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think she’ll have anything for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe not. It’s worth a shot. I’ll go into town tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful,” Wolffe said, his face hard and serious. “We don’t know what kinda trouble we stirred up today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it is…” The journal shifted in Rex’s belt as he stood, a weight that had nothing to do with its physical form. “We’ll handle it as we always do.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Writing Tumblr: @captaindominoes for TCW/Prequel stuff; @marshallvanth for The Mandalorian/OT stuff</p></blockquote></div></div>
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